Something's Changing
by Dinosaur1234
Summary: Something's changing, something feels different this year. Lily Evans is starting her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but Hogwarts doesn't quite feel like home anymore. There's whispers in the corridors about Mudbloods, Death Eaters and You Know Who. Old friends can no longer be relied upon, and old enemies seem more trustworthy by the day.
1. Chapter 1

_Diagon Alley_

The sun rose on the last day of July, but Lily Evans did not. Instead, even as the familiar scratch of an owl at the window irritated her ears, she rolled over resolutely and pulled the well-worn blanket over her head. Her room at the Leaky Cauldron had been freezing cold when she had arrived late last night but now, as the sun beat down and warmed her to an almost uncomfortable degree, Lily wriggled her toes out from under the covers, and hung them over the side of the bed to cool. The owl continued to peck and beat its wings impatiently against the window. The panes creaked in their brackets and, just seconds later, a post-owl had crashed through the glass and toppled, with a shaken squawk, onto the floor. Lily leapt out of bed.

"What did you do?" she frowned, and ducked down to untie a letter from the owl's outstretched claw.

It ruffled its feathers, spraying shards of broken glass over Lily's bare feet, and gave her a look that said, 'well, that's what happens'. Lily raised her eyebrows and, once the letter was free, tumbled back into bed. The owl gave a hoot.

"I don't have any food," said Lily, unfolding the parchment. The owl hooted again. "You want money? I only have Muggle money." The owl tilted its head in consideration, and then gave a brief nod of approval. "Alright then," she said, "but the Post Office won't like it."

From a drawer in the bedside table, Lily pulled out her purse and, struggling through some quick currency conversion in her head, removed two silver coins. She beckoned the owl towards her and dropped the coins into the small leather bag that hung from the claw that had not carried the letter. The owl hopped from one foot to the other, testing the weight of the bag. Seemingly confident that he could bear this new load, he gave a hoot of farewell and shot off through the broken window. Lily grimaced, unsure how she was going to explain that to Tom.

Turning her attention back to the letter, it read:

 _Lily,_

 _We'll meet you at the station at 10pm then. Shame you get in so late – there's a pub quiz tonight at The Three Broomsticks which Mum really wants you to come to. We've got most topics covered, apart from Muggle Studies – which obviously you'd be a dream at. It's okay though, we can go next week. DON'T LET DORCAS PUT YOU OFF. It's really fun here over the holidays I promise._

 _See you soon,_

 _Marlene_

On the bottom right hand corner of the page, scrawled in a different, but equally familiar hand, were the letters 'PTO'. Lily did so and, with a chuckle, read:

 _Lil -_

 _GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN. Hogsmeade is, as feared, super dull over the summer. Nothing is happening. Honeydukes = shut. Shrieking Shack = not even shrieking. Marlene will make you think that endless pub quizzes at The Three Broomsticks are fun, DO NOT TRUST HER. It's too late for me, but save yourself. RIP me._

 _Dorcas xxx_

Lily snorted and, casting the letter aside, felt her heart pound with excitement at the thought of seeing her friends soon. This summer had been pretty painful as summers go. Petunia had been unpleasant to her from the moment she had stepped through the door. Before this summer Lily had at least been able to discuss Hogwarts with her family as Petunia sat in stubborn silence. But now, with any mention of school or of magic, Petunia would stand up and leave the room altogether. Her older sister had refused to speak to her, or even to meet her eye the entire holiday. Petunia's new boyfriend didn't help matters. Lily wasn't sure what Petunia had told this Vernon Dursley, but he looked at her like something disgusting stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Ironic, Lily thought – avoided at school for not being witch enough – whatever that meant – and hated at home for not being Muggle enough.

Casting those thoughts away to the back of her mind, determined to be cheerful, Lily sat up, stretched, and carefully tip-toed over to her trunk. However hot it might be outside or under the covers, the stone floor of her room was still ice-cold. Lily stuck a hand carelessly into the trunk, pulling out whatever she could find. Once dressed, Lily stuffed Marlene and Dorcas's letter, her purse and wand into her satchel, locked up her trunk and, with some effort, began to drag it out the door. With one final glance over the room to check she hadn't forgotten anything, Lily's eyes fell upon the broken window. She gave a sharp intake of breath. Sidling over to the window, Lily first glanced out into the corridor, and then down into Diagon Alley below. Confident that no one could see her, Lily pulled out her wand and, with a gentle tap on the broken glass, whispered: "Reparo." As she jumped out of the way to avoid the stray shards of glass that soared to the window and slotted back into place, a small, smug smile played across Lily's lips; she had missed magic.

As it was still early, and so as not to wake the other guests, Lily tried to drag her trunk down the stairs as quietly as possible. Two floors down however, a door was flung ajar and a very large, disgruntled head shot into view and stared meaningfully at Lily as she passed by. The next floor down, a bleary-eyed St Mungo's worker opened his door and, with a kindly flick of his wand and a yawn, magicked Lily's trunk the rest of the way down the stairs. "Thank you!" Lily whispered, with an apologetic smile. Lily stowed her trunk safely behind the bar, thanked Tom, and promised she would be back by 1pm at the latest to collect her trunk and pay for the cost of the room.

Squeezing out the back door of the Leaky Cauldron, Lily, with some difficulty, pulled out her wand and carefully tapped a brick in the wall opposite, three up and two across from a collection of dustbins that sat festering in the sun. The brick wall fell away and, with a sigh of pleasure, Lily stepped into Diagon Alley. The cobblestones and the glossy windows of the shops to Lily's left and right sweat and glistened in the heat of the day. Lily was surprised by the hustle and bustle of the street despite the early hour. Although Ollivander's was dark, Lily could make out movement at the back of the shop. A shop assistant was sticking a sign to the window of Madam Malkin's which read 'HALF OFF DRESS ROBES'. Flourish & Blotts was already packed, with many witches and wizards trying to force themselves into the already cramped shop. Lily, curious, bent down and retrieved one of several hundred dropped pamphlets peppering the pavement outside the shop which read '3 SICKLES OFF 'THE COMPLETE GENEALOGY OF THE PURE-BLOOD WIZARDING FAMILIES' IF YOU PRESENT THIS LEAFLET AT THE COUNTER. ONE USE ONLY'. Lily's stomach turned. As she watched, a particularly sweaty, balding middle-aged wizard pushed his way out of the crowd, 'The Complete Genealogy of the Pure-Blood Wizarding Families' gripped tightly in his hand, which was raised high above his head so as to prevent anyone from taking it from him. Catching Lily's eye, he smiled with great relief at her.

"I'm in it," he breathed, clutching his side to sooth a stitch, "my family's in it! Not one of the oldest families obviously, but we're in it!" Lily attempted a smile. "Do you want me to see if you're in it?" he asked kindly, "save you the trouble of trying to get through that," he added, nodding at the gaggle of people trying to push their way into Flourish & Blotts.

"I won't be in there," Lily said.

"Oh, come on," he said, nudging her encouragingly, "don't be pessimistic, you never know. Best to find out anyway. That way if you are in it, you've got some proof in case You Know Who comes calling," the man chuckled, "and if you're not in it…well…"

"I'm definitely not in it," replied Lily, flushing, "I'm Muggle-born."

The man's reply, whatever it was, was lost to Lily, as she stumbled away hastily, the colour rising in her cheeks. She felt short of breath now, and much less sure on her feet. "Stupid cobblestones," she muttered, as her ankle twisted and gave way beneath her. Gripping a chair that sat outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Lily tried to steady herself. One deep breath, two deep breaths, three deep breaths. Lily shut her eyes. She could still hear the cries of desperate Flourish & Blotts patrons in distance behind her – 'Get out of my way!', 'I was here first!', 'Ow, that was my toe, you imbecile!' Lily couldn't help but laugh.

Her resolve returned, Lily opened her eyes and glanced up. Gringotts loomed large in the distance, its white walls almost unbearably bright. Shifting her satchel more comfortably onto her shoulder, Lily marched on. Down the street, up the stone steps, through the bronze doors – with an awkward semi-curtsey of acknowledgement to the goblin guards on either side – and into the entrance hall. Just as she had done for the first time six years ago, and once a year, every year since, Lily approached the smallest desk in the darkest corner of the atrium, above which an engraved, golden sign read 'EXCHANGES'.

"I'd like to exchange some Muggle money please," Lily said politely to the goblin perched on a high, ornate seat behind the desk, which was several inches taller than Lily herself.

Peering down his long, hooked nose at her, the goblin replied in a scratchy voice: "Put the money up here." Sifting through her satchel, Lily withdrew her purse and upturned it noisily onto the desk. Several notes, and coins of gold, silver and bronze, a whole summer of saving, fell out with a clang that reverberated around the room. "Is that everything?" the goblin asked, his lip curled in distaste, dragging individual coins towards himself one at a time with a yellow-nailed finger.

"Um," Lily shoved her hand back into her satchel, grazing the bottom of the bag in search of coins. It was empty. Turning out the pockets of her jeans proved equally unfruitful. Sticking her hand in her jacket pocket in one last-ditch effort, to her great surprise she withdrew a crisp £5 note. Pinned to the money was a note which read:

 _Just some walking around money, spend it wisely. (And I want a Chocolate Frog to add to my collection)._

 _Love, Dad_

Lily smiled, and slid the money across the desk. "That's everything," she said.

The goblin tutted, and began jotting down numbers in an enormous, dusty ledger that sat on the desk in front of him. Lily waited patiently, shifting from one foot to the other, while he counted out her Muggle money. Glancing around wistfully, Lily noted a man across the hall withdraw a small, golden key from his robes and hand it proudly to a small boy who clung to his arm. The boy grabbed the key in his chubby fist, and shoved in it his mouth. Lily wondered, not for the first time, what it might have been like to grow up in this world. Growing up knowing about the existence of goblins and of mountains of gold piled high under the earth, only accessible by what amounted to nothing more than a rickety rollercoaster on stilts. Turning back to the goblin, she watched him work affectionately.

"Are you pleased?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

"Pleased about what?" the goblin replied, not looking up.

"About the Ministry commissioning the creation of a Goblin Liaison Office. I read about it in the Prophet last night. It's quite a step forward, don't you think?"

"I don't read the Prophet. Wizard trollop, if you ask me."

Lily was silent. "Still," she continued, after a moment's thought, "it must be a good thing. Finally the Ministry will start paying attention to what –"

"The Ministry are only paying attention to what goblins want because of You Know Who," the goblin interjected matter-of-factly, "the Minister wants to get us on side, before _he_ does."

"You Know Who's doing a pretty terrible job of getting the goblins on side if that is what he's trying to do. That poor goblin family in Dorset," Lily said, her brow furrowed.

The goblin surveyed her, with something like approval written across his face. "Here you are," he said, pushing towards her a modest, but pleasing pile of coins, "it's a favourable exchange. Very favourable."

"I'm sure," Lily said in agreement, scooping the coins off the desk and dropping them loose into her satchel, "thank you very much."

"You're welcome," the goblin replied, "and –" he continued, as Lily turned to go, "I am pleased about the Goblin Liaison Office. We've been waiting a long time."

Lily smiled, and raised her hand in farewell.


	2. Chapter 2

_An Old Friend_

The sun was high in the sky when Lily emerged from Gringotts, and a cool breeze washed over her as she hopped down the steps back into Diagon Alley one at a time. From where she stood, she could see that the crowd outside Flourish & Blotts had dispelled, so Lily headed in that direction. Arriving outside the bookshop, which, sure enough, had a new sign pinned to its door which read ''THE COMPLETE GENEALOGY OF THE PURE-BLOOD WIZARDING FAMILIES' IS NOW SOLD OUT', Lily delved in her pocket for the list of books she needed for sixth year. List in hand, she entered the shop.

It didn't take her long to find the books she was looking for, for the shop was now practically deserted. Only eager first-years ever bothered getting their school books this far in advance. Her hands piled high with five extremely thick, hard-backed books, Lily wobbled over to the counter. As the shop-keeper began to ring up her purchases, Lily said hesitantly: "That genealogy book is very popular."

"Yes," the shop-keeper agreed. He was nodding very slowly, his eyes wide.

"Why d'you think that is?" Lily asked.

"Current climate, my dear," he said, slotting her books one by one into a brown paper bag. Lily eyed it nervously, it was sure to break.

"Do you have anything stronger?"

The shop-keeper glared at her. "No," he snapped, "that will have to do."

As she placed a small pile of Galleons onto the counter, and in return the shop-keep ladled the bag of books into her arms, Lily thought of another question. "Do you know who wrote it?"

The shop-keeper stared at her for a long while. "Walburga Black," he said finally, before disappearing in a blink of an eye into the maze of shelves behind him.

Musing over the name, and the oddness of the shop-keeper, Lily left the shop. With the bag in her hands and blocking her line of vision, walking required careful thought and attention. Peering around the bag as best she could, she edged her way across the street to Ollivander's. As she pushed through the entrance to the shop, a bell jangled into life above her head. This shop too, seemed completely empty, but Lily knew better than to go poking around without Ollivander's permission. She waited for several minutes, finally placing the bag at her feet to stretch out and rub the red ridges on her arms where the edges of the books had been digging in. Finally, she heard footsteps in the room above, and moments later Ollivander descended the winding staircase at the back of the shop and emerged behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" the old wand-maker croaked. Lily stepped forward, and laid her wand carefully on the cushioned stand that lay on the counter between them. Ollivander took the wand gently in his hands and brought it very close to his face, peering carefully at it through a monocle which made one of his eyes appear much larger than the other. "Ah yes," he began slowly, "willow, ten and a quarter inches, unicorn hair – if I'm not very much mistaken. One of mine, I take it?"

"Yes, of course," Lily said, "it's just quite scratched up is the only thing, and I'm worried that it's affecting its performance. I'm starting sixth year and, you know, with NEWTs and everything, I want to make sure it's in good working order."

"You're right to take care of it," Ollivander agreed, "but you really should have had it seen to before it got to this point," he added, scrutinizing her closely.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Ollivander laughed hoarsely, "apologize to the wand."

"Sorry wand," Lily muttered, as he handed it back to her.

Ollivander was examining the stacked shelves behind him. His hand grazed bottles of various coloured ointments, each marked with faded, imperceptible labels that seemed to make sense to him. With a quiet 'ah ha', Ollivander grasped hold of a small bottle of what looked like white hand cream. Turning, he rolled the bottle over and over gently in his hands.

"Now, too much of this will char the wood," he said, "just use a thin coat, brushed over the length of the wand with any kind of soft cloth, once a day, every day for a fortnight."

Lily nodded solemnly, and took the bottle from Ollivander. She placed it in her satchel carefully, and withdrew a handful of different coins.

"Thank you very much, Mr Ollivander," she said, "how much is that?"

"One sickle, Miss Evans."

Lily stared at him, impressed. "Do you remember everyone who buys a wand from you?" she asked, handing over the sickle.

"I try my best, Miss Evans, I try my best," Ollivander replied, "it is easier to remember the wand, rather than the face however. But I do always remember when children like you come for their wand. Something about that experience is so much more… insightful, than it is with wizarding children."

"Do you mean Muggle-borns?"

"I do indeed."

Lily wondered at the man. How old must he be? She remembered as if it were yesterday the day when she had chosen her wand – no, when her wand had chosen _her_. That day Ollivander her towered over her like some kind of ancient giant. Now, they stood at practically the same height. Lily smiled.

"Good-bye, Mr Ollivander."

"Good-bye, Miss Evans. Take care of that wand."

By the time that Lily had collected her books and turned back around to wave good-bye to the wand-maker, he had disappeared back into the depths of his shop. Lily took a moment to breathe the dark, dusky, damp smell of the room, before pushing back out into the sunshine.


	3. Chapter 3

_Another Black_

Lily had one final purchase to make; a new set of robes. For several years, Lily had been shooting up inch by inch, desperately pleading with her body to just stop growing. Now, hopefully, she thought she had reached the end of her growth spurt and, although she stood several inches taller than most of the boys in her year, she was pleased with her height. Lily didn't think she had much to boast about appearance-wise; she liked the colour of her eyes, but they were rather deep-set and her eyelashes were so short that her eyes looked like great green baubles. Her hair was her mother's favourite feature, and indeed, when it was washed and brushed it could be a thing of beauty, but most of the time it hung limp and auburn around her face, curling off in all different directions. Her nose was slightly longer than she might have liked, and her earlobes stuck out slightly – which was an odd complaint, but there it was. The worst of the spots had gone, but every so often another one would make a surprise appearance and Lily would curse, and moan, and try to shoot them off with her wand to no avail. Apart from that her skin was quite nice, mostly clear, and pale, and gleaming, but more often than not she was bright red and sweaty from dashing last minute to class. But her height, at least she could try to be tall and striking.

As Lily strode over to Madam Malkin's, she tried her new 'tall and striking' walk. It involved placing one foot directly in front of the other as she walked, as though she were walking a tight-rope. Unsurprisingly, this ended in disaster, and Lily crashed through the door into Madam Malkin's in a most un-'tall and striking' way.

"Can I help you, dear?" Madam Malkin asked, her eyebrows raised as she stood beside a miniscule first year with a tape measure in her hands.

"Yes please," Lily said breathlessly, recollecting herself, "I need some new robes for school."

"Right away," Madam Malkin said. "If you just take a seat," she added, gesturing to bright purple chaise lounge that was set up against the front window, "someone will be with you in a moment."

Lily nodded and sat down, grateful for the rest. As she waited, she took out the small bottle of ointment she had bought at Ollivander's and turned it over in her hands. There were instructions written on the back which Lily squinted at for a while before realising that they were written in a foreign language. To make sure she didn't forgot what Ollivander had told her, Lily rummaged around in her satchel for a pen and some paper. Leaning on her knee, she scrawled out with difficulty 'thin layer, using soft cloth, once a day for a fortnight'.

"If you'd just like to come with me?"

Lily glanced up. A plump, friendly looking shop assistant was standing over her, a pink pinny tied around her waist with an assortment of pins, needles, ribbons, lace and string adorning it. Lily noticed the shop assistant's eyes widen at the sight of her pen.

"What is that?" she cried in delight, taking it from Lily.

"Oh, it's called a pen," Lily smiled, "Muggles use them instead of quills and inks."

"Are you Muggle-born?" the shop assistant whispered, her face very close to Lily's. Lily had opened her mouth to answer when the shop assistant said, "Can I have this?"

"Sure," Lily nodded.

"Are you sure?" the lady gasped, "are you sure it isn't expensive?"

"No, honestly," Lily said firmly, "you have it. I've got loads at home."

The shop assistant stuck the pen proudly behind her eye, and admired herself in a mirror leant against the wall opposite them. She surveyed herself from many different angles, ensuring the pen was in view whichever way she turned, and then spiralled swiftly to face Lily.

"So," she began, quite over the excitement of the pen, "you need new robes for school?"

"Yes," Lily said, standing.

"Come right this way, right this way," the lady said, "leave your things. This won't take a moment."

Lily followed the shop assistant, who directed her onto a low pedestal beside the one upon which the tiny first year stood. Lily smiled down at her, and the first year turned away quickly, terrified. The woman man-handled Lily until she stood in the correct position, and then withdrew a tape measure and proceeded to measure her legs, her arms, her waist, her neck.

"Do you need a hat too?"

Over the noise of the shop door opening and closing, Lily had quite missed what the woman had said.

"Do you need a hat too?" she repeated.

"No," Lily replied, "just the robes."

"In plain black?" Lily nodded. "And a cloak?"

Lily wracked her brains, trying to remember what state her cloak had been in at the end of last year. Remembering an unfortunate incident that had taken place on a Hogsmeade weekend just before Christmas when Marlene, in an attempt to keep them warm on the walk back to school, had accidentally set fire to Lily's cloak, Lily nodded hastily.

"And a cloak as well, thank you."

"No problem," the shop assistant said, and made a quick note with her new pen on a scroll of parchment, "give us amount half an hour or so and we'll have that ready for you."

"Should I pay now or..?" Lily began, stepping down from the pedestal, and accidentally backing into someone behind her. "Sorry," she muttered, without turning around.

"Upon collection," the woman said, moving behind the counter, her pen poised, "can I get a name?"

"Lily Evans."

"Lily Evans?" said a familiar voice from her shoulder, "fancy seeing you here."


	4. Chapter 4

_A Conversation_

Lily was unsure what to think, or do, when she turned around to face a beaming Sirius Black. He wrapped one long, lanky arm around her neck and drew her into casual embrace. Lily's eyes darted across the room over his shoulder, furiously planning something clever and cutting to say. When Sirius had released her, the best she could come up with was a stuttered: "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he said and, leaning over the counter, said to the shop assistant with a wink, "I'm picking up a set of dress robes. The name's Sirius Black."

The shop assistant blushed, and ducked behind the counter with a giggle.

"What're you getting dress robes for?" asked Lily, eyeing Sirius sceptically, "and did you really just wink at her?" she added in a whisper.

"They were on sale," replied Sirius, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and yes. It's charming."

"Sure," Lily said, "well, I should probably go, I need to –"

"What're you talking about?" Sirius asked, reaching for his dress robes with one hand and flailing out to grab Lily's arm with the other, "I heard the lady," he said, "Your robes aren't going to be ready for another half an hour."

"So?"

"So let's go to Florean Fortescue's!" Sirius said gleefully, as he pulled a small fortune out of his pocket and handed it nonchalantly to the shop assistant.

"On you I should hope," said Lily, as she turned to walk out of the shop.

Sirius galloped after her and, thirty seconds later, they were sitting outside Florean Fortescue's. Lily kept her bag of books on her lap while Sirius browsed the menu. For whatever reason, Lily felt extremely uncomfortable. She gazed about her, looking for a distraction, something, anyone she knew. Whenever her eyes alighted on Sirius she felt a wave of resentment. This was the first time she had spoken to him properly since the incident at the end of last term, and she felt as though the memory hung over them like a swollen cloud fit to burst with rain. Sirius was acting completely normal – was she being extreme in her want of an apology? Or at least of some reference to what had taken place, no matter how small Sirius's part in it had been.

"What're you gonna have?" Sirius asked, flipping the menu over, glancing through it for a moment, before slamming it down onto the table decisively.

Lily picked up the menu, "Um," she mused, "Lemon and chocolate, please."

"Lemon and chocolate it is!" replied Sirius, like a magician about to conjure a rabbit from a hat.

Resigned to her fate, Lily placed the bag of books at her feet while Sirius waved over a waitress to place their order. As he did so, Lily studied him carefully, for now she noticed that he looked quite different from the last time she had seen him. His hair was longer, more unkempt and unruly – if that was possible. It fell past his shoulders, almost longer than hers, in dirty, black curls. He seemed thinner, Lily imagined she could wrap her hand around his entire wrist and have her fingers meet. His skin was sallow, with dark shadows under his eyes, of which the whites were red and watery. He wore all black, well that was nothing new, and peeking out from under the edge of his sleeve was…

"Is that a tattoo?!" Lily cried, whipping Sirius's sleeve back to reveal it further.

"Uh huh," Sirius nodded, smugly, "I got in done in Knockturn Alley a few weeks ago."

"What is it of?" Lily asked, budging around in her seat to try and see it the right way up.

"It's a dragon," Sirius said proudly, staring expectantly at Lily's face.

"It's nice," she replied after a while, and leant back in her seat to gaze innocently at him.

"You don't like it, do you?"

"I don't love it," Lily admitted, "is it the first one you've gotten?"

"Yep," said Sirius, as the waitress placed their sundaes in front of them, "but I'm gonna get more. I want to be covered in them."

"Does it hurt getting them done?" Lily asked, idly spooning lemon sorbet into her mouth.

"No," Sirius snorted, "Why would it?"

"Muggle tattoos hurt," Lily said, raising her eyebrows, "my dad has one. He has the Chinese symbol for love on his arm and he almost fainted getting it done." Sirius shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I just don't know if it counts if it doesn't hurt is all," Lily continued, her eyes fixed on her ice cream, "doesn't seem as meaningful if you don't go through all the pain for it, you know?"

Sirius leant forward, rested his elbows on the table and stared at Lily intently. "Are you saying that you don't think I'm hard-core enough to get a Muggle tattoo?"

"I didn't say that," Lily replied, unblinking, "you did."

Sirius burst out laughing. "You're fun, Evans," he said, chortling, "People always say you're too serious, but I think you're fun."

"What people?" Lily asked, a slight smile playing across her face, however hard she tried to resist it.

"People who best remain unnamed," Sirius replied shrewdly, narrowing his eyes at her.

Lily allowed the dust to settle before speaking again, for at the mention, however ambiguous, of James Potter, both she and Sirius sat up a little straighter, and avoided each other's gaze.

"What are you doing here then?" she asked, "Why're you randomly getting dress robes?"

"I'm going to stay with James for the rest of the summer," Sirius replied, after a short pause, "needed to pick up books and things before I left. What about you?"

"Same here," Lily said, "I'm going to stay with Marlene in Hogsmeade."

"You're catching the train early?" Sirius said, his eyebrows raised, "weird! With the teachers?"

"No, they've gone up already I think," Lily said, "I don't know who else gets the July 31st train." Sirius shrugged, poking and prodding his ice cream with his spoon. He hadn't eaten any of it. "Why're you going to stay with James?" Lily asked.

"Don't much fancy being at home right now," Sirius replied, shoving into his mouth a spoonful of mint chocolate chip so large that he began to choke.

"I know the feeling," Lily said, trying not to laugh as Sirius hammered his chest with a fist.

"You do?" Sirius coughed, bleary-eyed.

"Yup," Lily said, "parents or siblings?"

"Parents. You?"

"Sister."

"Ah."

They fell into an amicable silence. It was really wasn't so bad, thought Lily. She appreciated the fact that Sirius had skirted around the topic of James Potter. Perhaps she wasn't as ready as she thought was to have that discussion. She didn't know if she could handle someone attempting to defend James's actions, as she knew Sirius would. The sun beat down on the backs of their necks, and the ice cream was cool and sweet. Lily watched passers-by with their shopping, parcels from Madam Malkin's, wooden boxes from Ollivander's, long, large brown-paper wrapped packages from Broomstix, armfuls of books from Flourish & Blotts… that reminded Lily…

"Sirius," she began tentatively. Sirius made a grunting noise in response, now scoffing down his ice cream at the speed of light. "Do you know someone called Walburga Black?"

Once again, Sirius began choking. Lily leant forward and slapped his back hard with the palm of her hand, feeling somewhat responsible on this occasion.

"Sorry," she said, once Sirius had calmed down, "is that an okay question?"

"Yeah it's fine," Sirius said, wiping his voice, and dropping his spoon onto the table with a clatter. "She's my mother."

"Oh." Lily was thrown by that. She had known that Sirius was pure-blood. That he came from a very old wizarding family that, according to the rumours, had secretly thrown in their lot with the Death Eaters, Sirius's younger brother Regulus included. Lily also knew that Sirius wasn't like that. But what she hadn't realised was that now these ancient, wizarding families like Sirius's were expressing their opinions about purity of blood and Muggleborns so openly, in print.

"She's written a book," Lily continued, unwilling to relinquish the subject, despite how much it seemed to unsettle Sirius, "people were clamouring for it outside Flourish & Blotts."

"I haven't read it," said Sirius simply, "I don't know what it's about."

"You could guess?" Lily smiled, a half-hearted attempt to lighten the conversation which crashed and burned miserably.

"Look, what do you want me to say, Lily?" Sirius snapped, "I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you that I don't believe what my parents believe."

"You don't have to," Lily said, hastily, "I don't know why I brought it up. I'm sorry." Sirius was silent, gently spreading the melted ice cream across the table with his spoon. "I guess," Lily began again, "I don't know. I just feel like something's different now. That over the summer something changed."

"People are getting scared," Sirius said, "and when people get scared, they get desperate. They cling onto anything that might make them safe. In this case, it's purity of blood, or whatever you want to call it. It's self-preservation, it's human nature. You can't judge –"

"I'm not judging!" Lily cried, "I'm not, really. I do understand."

"You don't, Lily," Sirius smiled to himself, softened as if by magic.

"Yes, I do," Lily replied crossly, "what're you talking about?"

"You don't understand because you're a Gryffindor through and through," Sirius said, "you stand up for what you believe in and even in the face of a million You Know Who's I don't think you'd ever back down."

Lily was stunned. "That's quite nice of you to say, Sirius," she said, frowning at him, "why aren't you more like this at school?"

"Like what?"

"Like this," Lily pressed, "you know, chatty, able to maintain an actual conversation. Say nice things instead of taking the mickey the entire time."

"I don't take the mickey the _entire_ time."

"Yes you do, Sirius," Lily laughed, "and it's literally so draining! The banter, the constant banter, I can't cope sometimes."

"But you're so good at it!"

"I know," Lily conceded, "but don't you think this is nicer? Actually being able to talk to each other." Sirius shrugged, but gave her a satisfied smile. "I guess it's because you're always around James," Lily mused, but then instantly regretted it.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, his voice suddenly sharp again, his ears pricked to attention.

"I don't know," Lily said, watching him warily, "just when people are around James Potter they seem to lose their heads."

"In what way?"

Lily sat back in her seat, and placed her hands on her lap. It seemed they were going to discuss it after all. "I mean," she began, "James is a bully. And when you're around him – not just you!" she added quickly, as Sirius began to shake his head in disagreement, "when people, people in general, not just you, are around him they…kind of become bullies too."

"Who does James bully?" Sirius said, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Come on, Sirius," Lily said, exasperated, "don't act dumb."

"What? Snivellus?" Sirius said, "Do you honestly care if James bullies Severus Snape?"

"It's not just Sev."

"Then who is it?"

"I'm not playing this game, Sirius," said Lily, wiping her palms, which were beginning to sweat profusely, on her jeans.

"I'm not playing a game," Sirius said, his brow furrowed, "you said James was a bully, I just want to know who he bullies."

"It's not about… it's not about who he specifically – the point is," Lily launched into the rant which she had practiced on several occasions in the bathroom mirror, though in those imaginary situations she was speaking to James Potter directly, "the point is, the point is… is that he's manipulated you, and _that's_ why you can't see it. He does it to everyone. He charms everyone, he charms the teachers, he charms his friends – and so that way, when he does something shitty, they defend him. They say it's 'just a bit of fun', that it's just 'banter', and that it's just James being James. But it's not. He's a bully, you know he's a bully. There are no excuses."

"Woah," whistled Sirius, as he reclined back in his chair, "that's quite a theory."

Lily didn't say anything. She was trying to figure out whether or not she regretted speaking. She did feel relieved to have let out how she really felt, but she knew that Sirius's response was not going to satisfy her. How could it? He was James's best friend. Had Sirius sat there, and ranted harsh truths about Marlene or Dorcas, would Lily have relented and admitted that everything he had said was the truth? Or would she have denied it to the death? Lily wasn't sure. But she also knew that, thankfully, she wouldn't have to make that decision, as Sirius fancied Marlene, and no one would ever say that Dorcas was a bully.

"He likes you, you know," Sirius said, "He really likes you."

"Well I don't see why he wouldn't," Lily reasoned, "I've never actually done anything to him."

"Now who's being dumb?" Sirius said.

"What do you mean?" Lily said, "I'm not being dumb. I've just never actually done anything bad to James so I don't see why he wouldn't like me."

"I don't mean likes you like that," Sirius sighed, "in fact, in terms of normal-friend-liking, I think he finds you quite annoying. I mean, he _like_ -likes you, in a romantic – oh, you know what I mean," he trailed off, with a dismissive wave of a hand.

Lily did know what he meant, but she ignored it. She ignored as she had done since she was thirteen, when she first became aware of which boys _like_ -liked her and which boys didn't. Perhaps the fact that she knew James liked her so much fed her intransigent dislike for him. It was desperate, it was needy. If he put half as much effort into being kind to people as he did into liking her, maybe she would like him. But as it stood, she couldn't stand his self-entitled airs and graces which made him act and think that she was his. That she was so easily won, that she was so easily taken in as everyone else. Lily saw through it. Lily saw through James Potter.


End file.
